


Astrolabe and Carousel

by Deepspacesexual



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Fake Marriage, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Original Character(s), Star Trek: AOS, but I have no idea what it'll be until I write it sorry, it's gonna be fluffy angst ok, spirk, the summary makes it sound like a rom-com
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-26
Updated: 2015-08-12
Packaged: 2018-04-11 08:51:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4429076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deepspacesexual/pseuds/Deepspacesexual
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Uhura dares Jim to ask a stranger to be his guest at her wedding, none of them knew that the stranger would say yes, least of all the Vulcan who accepted. Now not only does Jim have to pretend he's known his date for a lot longer than a few days, but he has to keep the parents of the groom satisfied, this Orion girl from sabotaging everything, and still try to have fun in the process. </p>
<p>It's going to be a long week for Jim Kirk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Jim swiveled in his desk chair, PADD in hand. They had been at this for a half hour; he was getting tired of rewriting the same sentences over and over. This is what he gets for being best friends with a linguist.

“Alright, how’s this: ‘Jim Ki--’”

“No, nevermind. Change it back to James, it makes you sound more eloquent.”

“Holy shit, Ny--”

“You will call me Uhura, James Kirk!”

“Uhura, Uhura. Ohkay, fine. ‘James Kirk, 20 ye--”

“Really, your first descriptor is going to be your age? How cliché.”

“Stop. If you do not let me finish, I am going to strangle you. This is it, this is the last draft, period! ‘James Kirk, a 20 year old, tall, handsome blue-eyed Starfleet cadet, in need of a good looking, polite plus one at a week long wedding ceremony. All included package if convincing enough. Interested? My frequency is 857.9132. Kirk out.’”

After he finished reading, Jim looked over to Uhura for feedback. It’s easy to slide up next to some random girl at the bar, he thought, but actually putting himself out there? That is not so easy. All the same, he just wanted to be done writing the stupid ad so he could forget about it.

Uhura appraised him with a slight upturn of her head, then curtly nodded her approval.

“Yes, that definitely works. I know you resent me for this, but it’s my wedding, Jim, you must understand. Kotek’s parents will be there, and Nebulan custom dictates that all parties involved in the ceremony have to be accounted for by another. It’s simply tradition.”

Jim cringed. Tradition. It felt like a dirty word in his head, dredging up memories of Christmases as a kid back in Iowa. Yuck. Nonetheless, Jim acquiesced and submitted it into the Starfleet Centennial, flashing a grin at the screen when it confirmed his request.

After he set the PADD down on the desk, he turned around and drummed his hands on his lap, conjuring up a mischievous glint in his eyes that read nothing but trouble.

“Well now that that’s done, we’re free to not be boring again. And why exactly aren’t we out celebrating right this second, bride-to-be? You’re getting married! This calls for drinks!”

At this, Uhura laughed. “Someone is feeling a little antsy, good lord. Fine, fine, let me put on my heels, then we can go.”

Uhura watched with amusement as Jim fist pumped into the air and jogged out of the room to do whatever he did to look so handsome all the time. She stood up, eyeing the Starfleet Centennial page that was still up on the PADD. She knew that _she_ was lucky to have Jim; she just hoped that soon, someone else would feel the same.

~*~

Jim stood up and slammed his mug onto the table, catching the attention of a majority of the bar patrons and one very sexy bartender. Jim, who was far too drunk to notice the audience, continued his tirade, slurring his words over his typical cocky bravado.

"I bet," he banged his mug down again for emphasis, swaying slightly, "I bet I could get anyone in this bar."

Uhura smirked over her cocktail, feeling a little more drunk than she'd ever let on.

"Is that so? Hm. Well... what about that Andorian over there?" She said, flicking her head toward the middle of the room.

Jim turned to look at the dance floor, spotting the Andorian in question. She was pretty enough, the blue hue to her skin glowing underneath the strobing lights, but he wasn't interested -- she was too easy. Jim needed a challenge.

"Come on, is that really the best you've got?" He said, dismissing her attempts at a dare.

At the barb, Uhura was spurred on, determined to make him eat his words. Besides, she enjoyed watching Jim suffer, and he was asking for it.

She scanned the room for something a little more suitable for the challenge. After a few seconds of searching, she spotted Jim’s prey and smiled. Perfect.

“How about… him.” Uhura pointed down to the end of the bar, allowing Jim to follow her line of sight before lowering her hand over her drink. Jim immediately dropped his jaw and rounded back on her, eyes ablaze. Uhura grinned a winning smile; she knew this game was over.

“You want me to seduce a _Vulcan_?! Oh, come on, that isn’t even fair -- there wasn’t supposed to be a Vulcan here! Aren’t they too proud and pouty to be here, being, uh, whatever the word is --” Jim clenched and unclenched his hand in the air, searching for the exact phrasing he needed.

Uhura took pity. “Illogical?”

“Yes!” Jim shouted, “Illogical!”

As Jim continued, Uhura glanced back over at the man, worried that he was listening. Vulcans were known for their impressive hearing, and Jim was practically screaming about Surak and pacifism. This is what she gets for being best friends with a Starfleet cadet.

She turned towards the bar, signalling for another round of drinks, then looked over her shoulder at Jim.

“Well, you said you could get anyone in this _fine_ establishment, so...” Uhura trailed off, turning her head back to the bar as Jim started up again with a whole new slew of complaints.

“Are there any gay Vulcans anyway? Is it even logical to be gay, Uhura? I bet the thought has never even crossed their minds.” Jim pouted and Uhura tsked before giving him a stern look.

“Don’t be daft, Jim. He may not be gay, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t attracted to men.”

Jim had the grace to look guilty for his faux pas, apparently remembering the lecture she had given him when they first met, but Jim quickly got over it and stared her down.

“If this works -- and that’s a big if -- what will you give me for it?”

Uhura raised her eyebrows, taking their drinks from the waitress and setting them down on the table. “Wow, color me surprised. You’re actually going to do it! This should be hilarious.”

She picked at her nails for a moment, letting Jim sweat it out until she was ready to negotiate. “If you get him to go on a date with you, I’ll buy you a drink.”

Jim began to protest, but Uhura cut him off. “But,” she started, “if you can get him to go on my wedding trip, AND stay the entire time -- James Tiberius Kirk, do not give me that face. No, he has to stay the entire time, no discussion! -- I’ll give you anything you want.”

At this, Jim’s eyes became saucers. If just approaching a Vulcan is difficult, Jim thought, getting one to agree to anything that intimate would be downright impossible. But, he conceded to himself, Uhura _is_ giving him a way to pick up his date in a bar, and the Vulcan did look rather stunning...

“I mean, that’d never happen, so this is just pointless speculation.” Uhura said, breaking up Jim's reverie. After a moment of thought, Jim sat straight up and deeply inhaled, which is when Uhura remembered exactly why she should never promise Jim Kirk anything.  

“You’ll join Starfleet.” Jim decided. Once he was satisfied with the dramatic reveal, he sat back slightly and crossed his arms. He knew Uhura would never back down from a bet, even if it meant that she might have to endure the one thing she hated most: Starfleet Academy.

Uhura recoiled on the inside but played along regardless, pretending not to care by smirking and idly twisting her straw with her fingers. “Fine, sure I will.”

Jim persisted. “I mean it. You’re a phenomenal linguist, you have all your credentials, and Starfleet could really use someone like you.”

This argument was old hat, something that Jim had thought of years ago and never quite got over, but Uhura knew better. She wanted more than stuffy classrooms and cadets and grading; she wanted to travel and know more than anyone else did. If the academy didn't suffocate her, then Starfleet would, slowly but surely.

Alas, Uhura wasn’t in the mood to discuss something so serious, so she relented to him. “I heard you, and I said fine. I will look into it if you can get a staunch Vulcan man to hang out with you for a week. Good luck with that one.”

As Uhura finished off her drink, her communicator began to vibrate. She pulled it out of her bag to see who was calling, then quirked a small smile. Jim had no difficulties guessing who it was on the other end of the signal.

"It's Kotek, I have to go. I'm sure I'll hear about your conquest tomorrow though, so don't get too wild now." With that, Uhura stood up, smirked at Jim, then walked toward the double doors on the other side of the room, slipping out without a second glance. Typical Uhura, Jim thought, leaving me when I need her most.

Jim was now left alone to devise a plan with which to woo a Vulcan. Jim swallowed, trying to quell the anxiety he felt. With something so great hanging in the balance, Jim _knew_ he had to win.

Eventually he turned back toward the bar, squaring his shoulders like he was going off into battle. He zeroed in on the man who was still sitting there alone, just begging to be bothered. 

Jim stood up and put on his best smirk. It's now or never, he thought. Show time.


	2. 1.5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> unbeta'd, if you find any mistakes please let me know :) and as always, thanks for tuning in!

Spock walked into the bar, then instantly regretted it.

He could hear the noise from outside, but it was nothing compared to the onslaught of sound within the establishment. Spock sighed internally. When the engineer from the particle lab suggested The 602 as a place to "relax", Spock should have realized that the Scottish man's idea of relaxation was far from his own. Where he had conjured up images of tea and incense, this place was rife with drunk cadets and intolerable human music. Spock was far from impressed. All the same, he had walked quite a while to get here and figured he would stay for a drink before walking home.

He found a seat at the far edge of the bar, tucking himself into the corner where a large portion of the music was blocked by the bar itself. After settling himself into position, he looked around the bar to survey his surroundings. It was not overly large, but there was enough space for an elevated dance floor, which held a multitude of species all dancing to the same throbbing beat. He watched as one Terran girl disregarded rhythm altogether to spin around in circles, but it was not long before she was teetering off the platform and into the corner to wretch into a trashcan. It seemed like no one but Spock was disgusted, which ended his people watching session as quickly as it had begun.

Spock looked toward the other end of the bar and appraised the bartender. She was an Orion girl, not much older than he was, with the curliest orange hair that Spock had ever witnessed on another living being. The light from the bar surrounded her face nicely, allowing everyone in her presence to fawn over her soft green skin and blue eyes. It is common knowledge that no human male can resist an Orion, and by the amount of business the bar was doing, the owner used that to her advantage. Eventually she sauntered over to Spock’s side of the bar, all curves and flirtatious smiles, before she realized that her customer was a Vulcan. The Orion immediately dropped her act, replacing it with a more professional approach.

"What can I get you?" She asked, her mouth twitching with an unspoken question. He knew his presence was odd, but he was not willing to discuss it further.

"I will have a glass of water, please." Spock said briefly, making it clear that he was not interested in her curiousity.

She stared at him for a second longer, her eyebrow quirking with quiet assessment, before she decided against prying.

“Sure thing,” she said, then she slapped her hand on the bar in a definitive gesture, calmly turning towards the sink to retrieve his water. He watched her carefully fill the glass and then swiftly walk back to where he was seated, removing a coaster from her apron before setting it down in front of Spock.

"If you need anything else, just ask." she added, giving him a guarded grin before moving on to take more orders.

Spock’s eyes followed her for a moment, attempting to see farther past the Orion’s façade, but quickly gave up the endeavour to focus on finishing his water. Once the glass was empty, he slid the glass back across the bar to signal that he was done.

Spock stood up and pulled his shirt taut to remove any wrinkles it had suffered, then touched his identification card to the scanner on the bar. After he confirmed that the credits had transferred over smoothly, he put his card back into his pocket and began to walk towards the door. As was custom for Spock when his mind was otherwise unoccupied, he began to sort through upcoming tasks, estimating their importance within the context of an entire day’s worth of work. He felt annoyed at the reminder that the weekend was approaching; it would not be long before the lab was virtually empty. While his colleagues participated in their weekly terran holidays, Spock worked on their projects alone, which is something that did not seem to bother most of the lab students. Spock knew that they were using his working methods to their advantage, but took pride in being as disciplined and rigorous as any other Vulcan.

Half way through his walk, Spock sensed that he was being pursued, which threw him off his train of thought quite easy. As Spock turned to look back at the bar, someone tripped and began to fall right into his path, complete with flailing arms and a small yell of alarm. Spock quickly braced himself for the encounter; the person bounced off Spock’s side quite unceremoniously and ended up in a heap on the floor, slowly moving to get up off the floor.

"Oof," the person moaned. Spock did not recognize the language.

He did not hold out a hand, but the person seemed unfazed as they stood up straight and dusted themselves off. It was a human male, Spock noted cooly, with blond hair and a wide grin that showed off a row of very straight, white teeth. He was not much shorter than Spock, and Spock could see defined biceps under the man’s shirt sleeves. Despite the fact that Spock was obviously unbothered, the man was smiling and holding out his hands in a placating gesture. I do not understand why humans are so overly friendly, he thought.

"I hope you are not injured." Spock said, despite recognizing no signs of injury in the man. Spock silently chided himself for being careless with his words.

"Nah, I'm fine. Sorry for running into you, that really wasn't the plan when I came over here. The name is Jim, by the way." Jim said, obviously embarrassed by what had occurred. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and looked expectantly back at Spock. After a moment of loaded silence, Spock realized he had no choice but to divulge his own name as well.

"My name is Spock. Now if you'll excuse me," Spock said while turning back toward the door; he was determined to escape the situation as quickly as possible, grace be damned.

"Wait!" Jim exclaimed, bounding up next to the Vulcan. Spock did not stop nor verbally acknowledge Jim, yet he slowed his gait so Jim to keep up at a more suitable pace.

"I came over here to talk to you specifically." Jim admitted, sounding a lot more confident than he had before. Spock was curious to know where this conversation was going, but continued to walk regardless.

"What is it that you need?" Spock replied. Jim placed a hand on Spock’s arm, and Spock could not help but turn to look at Jim completely. The determination in the human’s brilliantly blue eyes was rivaled in depth only by the warmth exuded by his entire being. Oh, Spock thought. He suddenly felt unprepared for this conversation.

Jim threw up his arms and loudly sighed, something Spock could see as a bad habit of his. "To put it in Vulcan terms, I think you're aesthetically pleasing. I need a date to my best friend's wedding and, well, I want you to come with me. It's this week long vacation type deal. It might be fun!" Jim finished the end of his sentence in a rush, then plastered another large grin to his face to hide the nervousness. This doesn't have to be love, Jim thought comfortingly, I just need to win this bet.

Spock was flustered. Why would this human choose him over everyone else in this bar? Vulcans were not known to “have fun,” and the human must have known that upon asking. The confusion instantly turned into derision. The only logical answer was that this human was pranking him, and Spock would not be made into a fool. Spock stopped to stare at Jim, trying to figure out his motives. Jim did not seem to be insincere, as his eyes focused and kind, but that did not deter Spock from ending the conversation immediately.

"You know nothing about me beyond my name. I find it rather assuming of you to think that I would agree to such an outlandish proposition. Live long and prosper." Spock said curtly, then put up the ta’al and quickly departed, leaving Jim to watch the doors slowly close behind Spock’s retreating body.

Eventually Jim turned back toward the bar, desparate to have another drink. While he was not very happy, he was also left with the strange feeling that although the conversation could have gone better, and that it _definitely_ did not go how he had planned at all, he would surely be seeing the Vulcan again.

~*~

Spock did not think about the encounter all the way back to his apartment. He did calculations for his current project, he recited all of Surak’s tenants, and he even continued to work on T’Ravik’s Timewarp Postulate, but he absolutely did not think about The 602 or a human named Jim.

Spock quickly walked up the stairs and into his apartment, ignoring the gust of stale air and the echo of the closing door that signified an empty house. He had no use for material possessions, and his living room projected that sentiment. He ignored the pang of desperation and opted to go straight to his study to boot up his PADD.

Despite the late hour, it only took his mother twelve seconds to answer Spock's call. Amanda was smiling warmly, a welcoming sight for Spock's disoriented mind. "Hello, Spock," she said, her voice radiating love and concern, "What is wrong?"

Spock knew his mother was inclined to ask emotional questions, but he strived to keep the conversation on track. "Nothing is wrong, mother."

Amanda knew better, but kept quiet. "That is fine. Why have you called?"

Spock hesitated for a moment, trying to pull his thoughts together in a concise manner before speaking. He was frustrated that he could not discuss the problem without bringing up personal feelings, but tried to explain regardless.

"I have been asked to accompany a human on an excursion, the duration of which would be a week."

Amanda's eyes lit up, unabashedly thrilled for her son. "That is wonderful, Spock! Is it a friend of yours?"

"No, mother, we were not in acquaintance before this evening." Spock refrained from saying that he had met Jim in a bar, knowing that it would only excite his mother further.

"I admit that is pretty strange. What did you say?" Amanda cocked her head, her eyebrows knitting together. She hoped that Spock had said yes, but she knew better than to hope for something so far out of her son's comfort zone.

"I declined. The man said he invited me because I am aesthetically pleasing, yet gave no other reason as to why he would approach me. It is illogical to do something you are unsure of just because someone else insists upon it." Spock over explained, then shut his mouth in embarrassment. He had spoken too much, and now his mother would know how much the situation was bothering him.

Spock was not wrong. His mother smiled again, a knowing look in her eyes. "Oh, my dear. When you left for Earth, you cited your want to learn about Earth's cultures as one of the reasons for going there. All you have done for the past two years is sit in that lab. This is the perfect opportunity to observe how a Terran acts and lives outside of Starfleet! I know that I cannot persuade you to stray from logic, but I hope you can find the logic in becoming more acquainted with your human side."

Spock reflected on what his mother said, but knew that he would need to meditate if he were to completely digest the conversation. "I appreciate your insight as always. I will call you again soon, but now I must make a decision. Dif-tor heh smusma, ko-mekh." He raised the ta'al in farewell.

"Sochya eh dif, Spock." Amanda raised a ta'al in return, then ended the transmission, leaving Spock alone with his thoughts. He was prepared to meditate.

He walked into his bedroom and retrieved his mat from the corner, taking care to set it down directly in the middle of the floor. The room was always kept relatively dark, with only a small window and a few lit candles allowing any light to surround him, which was just as he preferred. Spock settled down onto the floor, slowing down his heart by two beats and focusing on the stark white door in the recesses of his mind.

Once Spock was fully submerged into his trance, he approached the white door and touched the handle. He could feel his emotions on the other side struggling to break free, but only when he opened the door could they escape; this barrier was his control, and he was secure in its strength. Spock skirted his conscience along the barrier for a moment longer, then he allowed the door to open, releasing what he had kept hidden from everyone else. At once he was bombarded with a full range of emotions, all of which demanded his attention immediately. He was used to this rush of feeling, as this had been his routine since he was a child, and acknowledged anger, contentedness, and confusion calmly and without hesitation. Once he felt at peace with each perturbation, Spock was able to shut the white door again without the worry that his emotions were too great to hide.

Spock knew that his method was abnormal, as shown by the healers' distaste when they learned of his method, but Vulcans also understood that what is functional is not always orthodox, hence Spock was able to continue with his pattern. He had been persistent in proving to the healers that although he was half human, he was capable of dealing with his emotions as well as any Vulcan boy could; his system of acceptance fulfilled his needs nicely.

Spock was almost finished with his meditation when he finally acknowledged a faint yet persistent tugging in the back of his mind. In this corner of his mind was a new door, one that he had created specifically for all the feelings Spock felt about Jim’s preposition. It was small brown door, so small that if it was not emitting such a bright yellow aura that Spock may have been able to ignore it completely. The moment he touched the light, the door burst wide open and spilled the light all over his mind. He felt a buzzing warmth at the source of the light and was confused when it seemed familiar, as if he had encountered this same warmth somewhere else. When he extended his hand toward the warmth, much like a human would put their hand over a fire, it exuded resolve, tentative contentment but most of all, intense curiosity.

While Spock was used to handling basic, uniform emotions such as sadness and joy,  
Spock was ashamed of these newer, complex feelings; he told himself that it was not proper for a Vulcan to be so explicitly emotional. His human side, the side he could usually suppress so easily, was intrigued by the unknown; alas, the curiosity was not for scientific gain and was thus unimportant to his Vulcan side, something Spock could not reconcile within himself. Nevertheless, his emotions persisted; the interest in the preposition only grew stronger as he allowed himself to imagine future possibilities. Before long, Spock could not resist and had to let himself wonder: what would happen if said yes to Jim Kirk? There were many different outcomes, some of which were pleasing and others that were not; there was no way to calculate what would happen unless he approached the human with a different answer. And what would happen if he took such an uncalculated risk? Spock did not know, but he accepted the fact that he wanted to.

After coming to terms with this emotional outburst, Spock came back to his physical self and swiftly stood up. His body revolted at the sudden movement, yet his mind was alive with conviction. He walked back through his apartment door, hardly letting himself hope that he could get back to the bar before it was too late.

~*~

It was 2am by the time Spock reached his destination. As he walked closer, the blue glow of the streetlights allowed him to make out two figures standing by the entrance, more than likely locking the doors for the night.

He wasn't close enough to hear what they were saying, but the tones of their voices sounded familiar. Eventually he was close enough to see that it was, in fact, Jim Kirk and the bartender. Jim had obviously consumed a great deal of alcohol since Spock had departed, which was evident by his slurred speech and inability to take his hands of the Orion girl. The girl did not seem to mind, but something in Spock stirred.

It was Jim who noticed his presence first. He took his arm away from the bartender's waist and toddled over to where Spock was standing. "Spork! Er, wait, no no no," Jim laughed, "It's Spock! Gaila, look, it's Spock! What're you doin' here?" Jim drawled. Once he reached Spock, Jim put a hand on Spock's chest to balance himself, prompting the girl -- Gaila -- to give him a shrewd look.

"I came to apologize for my previous behavior, but you are too inebriated for this conversation." Spock looked up to see Gaila walking over as well, smoothly putting the security card in her back pocket before bringing her arms to cross in front of her.

"Jim and I live close to each other, so I was going to drop him off at his place on my way home." Gaila said. Jim just grinned and slowly nodded his head.

"How do you two know each other, if I may ask?" Spock inquired. He was not expecting Jim and the bartender to be in acquaintance, yet it was not surprising; Jim most likely knew everybody.

"He's a regular here and I'm the head bartender. Obviously you get to know people after a while." Gaila looked over at Jim, then back at Spock, and raised an eyebrow. "And how could you possibly know Jim? I saw him come up to you while you were leaving."

"We do not know each other. He approached me with a preposition, which I had declined." Spock recognized that this was the second bizarre situation that he had been in with the Orion, but he declined to elaborate further.

Gaila acted nonchalant, but Spock saw something reproachful flash in her eyes. "So you're back to accept his offer, huh?" She guessed. As Spock regarded her, she fiddled with a ring on her finger, trying to hide her gaze from the suspicious Vulcan.

"Yes, that is correct." Spock confirmed. At this, Jim, who Spock had thought was sleeping, ran over to the side of the road and emptied the contents of his stomach. Gaila averted her gaze with a grimace.

"I don't feel so--" Jim started to say, but he did not get the chance to finish before another round of dry heaving made him pass out directly on the curb. Gaila quickly walked over and tried to get him to stand up, but he was fast asleep. She then tried to pull him up on her own, pulling Jim's arm with all her might, but she was too small to carry his bulky frame.

She dropped Jim on the ground with a thud. "Could you _please_ grab him?" She asked irritably, putting her hands on her hips with indignation. He could tell that she did not like to ask for help.

Spock walked over and picked him up with ease, but soon realized that the only way he was going to get Jim anywhere was to carry him. He hoisted the man over his shoulder and turned to look at Gaila. She wasn't pleased with the stunt.

"How far away does he live?" Spock asked.

"Over in academy housing. It's 82 Cochrane Drive, I think." Gaila added, trying to be helpful for Jim's sake.

Spock assessed his options. His apartment was closer than Starfleet Academy, and he knew that Jim would be admonished if he appeared on campus in this state. He came to a conclusion that made the warmth in his mind glow a little brighter, and he reprimanded himself. This is the logical choice, Spock told himself.

"I will take him back to my apartment." Spock said smoothly, though his heart was beating faster than normal.

Gaila looked startled. "Like hell you are! He doesn't even know you! That's it, I'm calling a shuttle, just set him down right there." She pulled out her communicator and began to dial the academy emergency line when Spock intervened.

"If you get the academy involved, he will have to stand in front of a disciplinary board. He will be punished for misconduct." Spock shifted, allowing Jim's weight to shift as well.

Gaila paused. She looked at Jim for a moment then huffed, putting her communicator back in her pocket. "Fine. I'm only trusting you because Vulcans never lie, or whatever." After a moment more of strict scowling, she looked back at the entrance to confirm that it was locked, then started to head down the street.

Spock began to do the same in the opposite direction, distributing Jim's weight in a way that made it easier to walk. He had only walked a few steps when she turned around.

"Just so you know," Gaila began, "He asked me to the wedding, too. _I_ didn't hesitate to say yes." She tsked at him then started down the street again, her heels clicking against the pavement as she walked.

Spock did not turn around nor stop walking, but did he ponder what this meant for quite some time, and had to wonder whether or not he should have shown up at The 602 again that night at all.

~*~

Spock opened his apartment door for the second time that night, but this time came with a sore back and a heavy conscience.

He walked into his bedroom and put Jim right in the middle of the bed, making sure to remove the man's shoes before they could touch his sheets. Once Spock was done, Jim instantly sprawled himself out onto the bed and loudly snored.

Spock retrieved a glass of water and set it down on the bedside stand, then he grabbed his mat and walked back out into the livingroom. There was not enough time for Spock to receive adequate sleep, so he decided he would meditate again for a few hours instead.

When Spock finally submerged himself into his mind for the second time that night, he immediately went back to the light from earlier. The door was still open so he was able to touch the warmth with ease, basking in the comfort and hope it radiated. Spock wavered for a moment, well aware that he should not become so attached to such fleeting feelings, but tendrils of light began to weave themselves around his consciousness, pulling him in slowly but surely. As he became more and more connected to the warmth, Spock reasoned that he would detach from these illogical feelings tomorrow; he was positive that when Jim woke up he would clear up all misunderstandings so Spock could go back to normal. As the light covered the last pieces of his mind, he inhaled sharply; Spock noted with some surprise that unlike everything else in life, becoming content took no effort at all.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "A Spirk Galaxy" was created by the super talented [commanderflowers](http://commanderflowers.tumblr.com/post/126858444157/a-spirk-galaxy-it-sort-of-looks-like-jims-side) (thanks again!!!)! The piece was made separately, but it is so beautiful and complements my story so well that I had to include it :)
> 
> p.s. for anyone who doesn't know any Vulcan :)  
> dif-tor heh smusma: live long and prosper  
> ko-mekh: mother  
> sochya eh dif: peace and long life


End file.
